


Failed History Test

by justspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 17 and 12, Caring Dean, Gen, John to the Rescue, Preseries, Sick Sam, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justspn/pseuds/justspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has to leave school to pick Sam up and bring him home because Sam's sick. Dean thinks he can handle it until Sam starts crying and asking for John. Dean ends up calling John at work, and John makes Sam feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam coughed into his comic book and winced. His throat was really starting to get sore. 

Out of nowhere, Dean showed up with a glass of milk. 

"You didn't finish it at dinner." Dean explained when he caught Sam's confused glance. That seemed to make Sam content, so Dean went back to the kitchen to finish the dishes. 

Dean noticed that Sam hit the hay early that night. It wasn't all that strange since Sam had joined the basketball team. Practice wore him out most days. Dean finished drying the dishes and stacked the last of them in the cupboard. He glanced at the clock. It was getting late, almost 8 and John wasn't home yet. 

"If he's out drinking again, I swear to God..." Dean muttered under his breath. He hung the dishtowel over the back of a chair and went down the hall to the room he shared with Sam. Sam was sprawled out on his bed, blankets forming a mountain over his body. Dean smirked and stripped out of his jeans and t-shirt. He crawled into bed and closed his eyes to try to sleep because there was nothing else to do except sit up and worry about when John would be back, which Dean refused to do, even if he was worried. 

Dean was just drifting off when Sam coughed. The harsh noise startled Dean and he sat up. Sam coughed again and woke himself up. His throat was on fire. He sat up and noticed the light was on. He looked over at Dean's bed and saw Dean watching him with concern written all over his face. 

"Need a drink?" Dean asked quietly, already standing up to go to the kitchen. 

Sam nodded and swallowed carefully. His throat didn't hurt as bad swallowing as it did when he coughed. Sighing, he rested his head back against the wall. 

"Sick?" Dean asked, coming back with a glass of water. It wouldn't be the first time Sam had come down with something in what seemed like 20 minutes. 

"No. Just a sore throat." Sam answered, gratefully taking the water from Dean. 

"Can you go back to sleep?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and took another sip of water before setting the glass on the nightstand and curling up under the blankets. 

Dean sat on his bed and watched Sam for a minute. His color looked normal. He didn't have the fever flush he always got when he was running a temperature. Dean shrugged and went back to bed, flicking the light off. He'd check Sam's temperature in the morning before school.

 

"Sam, let's go! Breakfast!" Dean yelled from the kitchen. He heard Sam shuffling around, probably stuffing his gangly long legs into a pair of jeans. Dean tossed some toast and scrambled eggs onto Sam's plate and was pouring him a glass of milk when Sam came into the kitchen. 

Sam sat down and spread some jelly on his toast before taking a bite. 

"Throat still hurt?" Dean asked, buttering his own toast. 

Sam shrugged and kept eating. His throat did hurt, but he had a history test he had to take and he couldn't miss it. 

Dean gave his brother a once over glance before he started eating. "If you need to come home I'll leave class to get you. Don't worry about it, okay? It won't be a big deal." Dean said.

Sam nodded, determined not to going home during the day. He hated missing class, and knew Dean did too, despite how much he complained about school.

 

Sam coughed into his elbow and winced. He should've brought cough drops with him. The words on his history test seemed to be swimming and he could feel goosebumps prickling up on his skin despite the hoodie he was wearing. He clenched his teeth to make himself focus. He knew all these answers, and all he had to do was finish the test and then he could go home. Or convince Mr. Henry to let him sleep behind the teacher's big desk. 

When Sam first started school in this town he found himself gravitating towards Mr. Henry. The teacher put off an air of confidence and safety. He'd taken Sam sort of under his wing and helped him join the basketball team and get caught up in the classes he was behind in. 

Sam sighed when he marked down the last answer on the test. He brought it up to Mr. Henry and sat back at his desk. Everyone else was still scribbling away, so Sam put his head down on his desk. He realized he'd fallen asleep when the bell signaling the end of class rang. 

"Sam, stay here please." Mr. Henry said as Sam stood up to leave. Sam sat back down at his desk and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. When all the other students had left the room Mr. Henry sat down next to Sam. 

"Everything okay?" he asked. 

"Yeah, why?" Sam asked, his voice cracking painfully.

"I was looking over your test and I can already tell you didn't pass it." Mr. Henry said, looking Sam in the eye. "Now, I know you know the material. So what's up? Are you sick?"

Sam shrugged and sniffled. Mr. Henry gently felt Sam's forehead with the back of his hand. 

"You're feverish. Why didn't you stay home?" Mr. Henry asked. 

Sam shrugged again. He wanted to go to lunch and forget about the whole thing. 

"Tell you what. You can use my phone to call home if you want to. Or you can go on with the rest of your day. I'd encourage you to go home. You aren't looking very good kiddo." Mr. Henry said. 

"There isn't anybody at home right now." Sam said. He knew he had to be careful about about what he said when it came to home. 

"I can call the high school so you can talk to your brother if you want." 

Sam thought about it for a minute before nodding. He really didn't feel well, and Mr. Henry was probably going to bug him until he left anyway. He watched as Mr. Henry dialed his phone and talked to the lady in the office for a minute before handing the phone to Sam.

"They're calling him out of class. Just wait a minute." Mr. Henry told him. Sam nodded and held the phone to his ear. He could hear a murmur of voices on the end of the line, the secretaries talking together. 

Mr. Henry walked to the back of the classroom to get his lunch out of the closet and also to give Sam some privacy. The kid looked awful, and he felt bad for him. He'd decided before class had even ended that if Sam was sick he was going to go home. Sam had seemed off from the moment he sat down at his desk. Mr. Henry listened subtly when Sam started talking. 

"Dean?" Sam asked. 

"You okay Sammy? The office said you're sick." Dean said through the phone. Just hearing Dean's voice made Sam feel a little better. 

"I don't feel very good. And I failed my history test." Sam said, his voice breaking as he told Dean he'd failed. 

"Is that why you didn't stay home today?" Dean asked gently. He could tell Sam was about to cry.

"Yeah." Sam answered. 

"Do you want me to come get you?" Dean asked. 

"Yeah." Sam whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away. 

"The secretary says she needs to talk to Mr. Henry before I can leave. Can you put him on the phone?" Dean asked. 

"Yeah, hold on." Sam said.

Mr. Henry was already heading back towards his desk where Sam was standing. 

Sam handed him the phone. He rested a hand on Sam's shoulder and talked with the secretary at the high school. "Okay. Let's go get your backpack out of your locker and then go to the office." Mr. Henry said once he hung up the phone. 

Sam nodded, grabbing his books off his desk. 

"You can retake the test when you're feeling better, okay?" Mr. Henry assured Sam. 

"I know the answers, I just couldn't make sense of anything." Sam said quietly. 

"That's because of the fever. You'll get it next time." Mr. Henry said.

They walked into the office together after stopping at Sam's locker. Sam sat down in a chair against the wall and watched Mr. Henry talk to the secretary. She brought a thermometer over to Sam and stuck it in his ear. 

"Yep, you've got a fever." She said once the thermometer beeped. "Your brother will be here in a few minutes."

Sam nodded. Mr. Henry noticed that Sam looked like he was going to cry again so he went to sit with him. 

"Don't worry about what you're missing. Just go home and rest. I'll help you catch up when you're feeling better, okay?" Mr. Henry said softly. 

"Okay." Sam said. "Thanks." 

"You're welcome." Just then Dean walked into the office. "Now get some rest. I'll see you when you feel better." Mr. Henry said, patting Sam's head. 

"See you." Sam said. He walked up to Dean and waited while Dean signed him out. 

"Ready kiddo?" Dean asked, turning towards Sam. Sam nodded and followed Dean out to the parking lot where the Impala was waiting. He climbed in the front seat and put his back pack on the floor. 

"You want me to stop to get anything?" Dean asked. "Popsicles? Ice cream? Cough drops?"

"Popsicles would feel good on my throat." Sam admitted.

"Tell me what doesn't feel good so I can get you the right medicine." Dean said. He knew they had plenty of Tylenol, but Sam might need something other than that. 

"Fever, sore throat. I'm really tired. And cold. And my body hurts." Sam said. He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands. 

"How's your stomach?" Dean asked.

"It's fine, but I'm not hungry." Sam answered. 

"Not nauseous at all?" 

"No."

"Okay. It's probably not the flu then. I'll get you some cough syrup and some cold meds along with popsicles. What flavor do you want?" Dean asked, making himself a mental shopping list. 

"Just the fruit ones." Sam said. Dean pulled into the grocery store parking lot.

"Okie dokie. You gonna be okay here while I go in?"

Sam nodded and turned the heat up. Dean got out of the car and all but ran into the store, grabbing some hot chocolate powder along with the other things on the list. He got in line at the check out and paid, using most of the cash he'd earned working at the garage that week. Dad wouldn't be happy that Dean spent it, but he could shove it where the sun don't shine for all Dean cared. 

Sam had his eyes closed when Dean got back to the Impala. He put the shopping bags in the back and got in. It was a warm day for January, the sky holding the possibility of snow. He threw the Impala into gear and headed home. Sam's eyes were still closed and Dean wondered if he was sleeping. 

"Sam?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yeah?" Sam answered, his voice breaking. He kept his eyes closed.

"I got some hot cocoa powder." Dean said. 

"Thanks Dean." Sam said, his eyes still closed. 

Dean frowned. Hot chocolate was one of Sam's favorite things and it was worrisome that he wasn't getting excited. "Did the secretary say what your temperature was?" Dean asked. 

"No. Why?" Sam wondered. He shivered and tried to curl into himself more. 

"I just wanted to know." Dean said. He reached over and felt Sam's forehead. He was pretty warm. 

Dean pulled into the driveway of their for-the-moment house and grabbed the shopping bags along with Sam's backpack. Sam climbed out of the car and wished he'd worn a jacket over his hoodie. He followed Dean up the stairs and waited, shivering, while Dean unlocked the door. 

"Come on Sammy." Dean said, ushering Sam inside. Sam kicked his boots off and headed for the couch. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and curled up under it, not even caring that the TV was off. 

Dean left the supplies on the coffee table and put the popsicles in the freezer. He went to their bedroom and found Sam some warm pajamas and his sleeping bag. 

"Here, change into these. You want to shower first? It'll warm you up." Dean suggested. 

Sam thought it over. Standing for a long period of time sounded like a bad idea. "I want to, but what if I pass out? I might drown." Sam said. He shivered again. 

"I'll sit in the bathroom with you if you want." Dean said. He knew Sam needed to lower his body temperature, but a few minutes in the shower wouldn't hurt. 

"Okay." Sam said. The hot water would warm him up and make his body stop aching. 

Dean followed Sam to the bathroom with his pajamas in hand. "Take some Tylenol before you get in." Dean said, opening the cabinet behind the mirror when Sam started changing. 

Sam took the pills Dean gave him and turned the water on in the shower, waiting for it to heat up. 

Dean saw the goosebumps on Sam's skin as he stood there shivering in his boxers. Dean planted himself on the closed toilet seat and flipped through the car parts magazine he'd read a thousand times.

"Close your eyes. I'm getting in." Sam whispered. His throat was hurting worse than before. 

"Okay." Dean said. He covered his eyes with his hand. He heard the curtain mover back and then close. "Can I open my eyes now?" Dean asked. 

"Yeah." Sam squeaked. Dean frowned. Sam was losing his voice. He looked at the clock and timed five minutes. When the five minutes was up he made Sam get out. 

"Alright Sam, let's get you dressed." Dean said. He stood up and got Sam a towel. 

"But Dean, the water's not even that warm." Sam squealed. He was feeling panicky and on the edge of tears over something stupid. 

Dean heard the emotion in Sam's strained voice and felt his heart break a little. The poor kid had to feel like absolute shit to cry about getting out of the shower. "It's okay Sammy. I'll help you warm up on the couch, okay? You need to get out so your fever doesn't get worse." 

"Close you eyes then." Sam whispered, peeking his head out around the curtain. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and held out the towel. He felt Sam grab it from his hands. "Okay, open them." Sam croaked. Dean helped Sam get dressed and then walked with him back to the couch. Sam snuggled into his sleeping bag and shut his eyes. 

"Do you want anything? Tea? A popsicle?" Dean asked quietly once Sam was situated. Sam just shook his head. "Okay. Let me take your temperature before you fall asleep. I'll be right back." Dean said, jogging to the bathroom to get the thermometer. He jogged back to the couch and sat on the coffee table. "Open up."

Sam opened his eyes and his mouth. Dean slid the thermometer under Sam's tongue and combed his fingers through Sam's hair. The poor kid looked miserable. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed red against the stark paleness of his face. Dean checked the thermometer. "103. Not feeling good, huh?" 

"Nope." Sam whispered. Dean rubbed Sam's cheek with his thumb and stood up to get the cough syrup out of the kitchen. He brought back the bottle and a glass of water. 

"Here, take this." Dean said, pouring the syrup into the little cup. Sam took it from Dean and grimaced, swallowing it with difficulty. "Want me to put a movie on?" Dean asked, trying to make Sam feel better. 

"I don't care, De." Sam whispered. Dean frowned. 

"I'll put on the third Star Wars. I know that's your favorite one." Dean said. He put the movie on and went into the kitchen to make Sam some tea. He was only gone for three minutes, tops, when he heard Sam banging on the coffee table with the remote. Dean hustled back to the living room. "What's wrong?" 

"Will you lie with me? I'm cold." Sam asked. He felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes. 

"Yeah, course I will. I'll be right back. I need to go finish making you some tea." Dean answered. He felt his heartbreak at the sight of Sam's eyes welling up with tears. He went back to the kitchen to pour the boiling water into a teacup. He dunked some herbal tea in the water and brought the mug and a bottle of honey back to the coffee table. "Drink this. It'll keep you hydrated and help your throat, okay?" 

Sam nodded and slid forward so Dean could lie behind him on the couch. Dean laid down and let Sam curl into him before resting an arm over Sam's side. 

"De, when will Daddy be home?" Sam asked. 

Dean paused. Since when did Sam what Dad's help with anything? "After his shift at work. Around 6, why?" Dean asked. 

"I just want him home." Sam whispered, tears sliding down his cheeks. 

"It's okay Sammy. Don't cry." Dean whispered, pulling Sam closer to his body. He could feel Sam shivering and wondered if he should take Sam to the doctor. After a heavy internal debate, he reached behind him to the table behind the couch and grabbed the phone. He dialed John's work number and waited for someone to pick up. 

"Hello?" A gruff voice asked. 

"Can I talk to John please? It's important." Dean said into the receiver. 

"Yeah, hold on a second." Dean heard the phone being put down and a muffled shout. A minute later the phone was picked up again.

"Hello? Who's this?" John asked. 

"Hey Dad, it Dean." Dean said. 

"Why are you out of school? What's wrong?" 

"Can you come home early maybe? Sam got sent home sick and he's not looking too good." 

"What's he got?" 

"I'm not sure. Fever, sore throat, body aches." Dean said, gently getting out from behind Sam. Sam whimpered. "I'll be right back." Dean whispered. 

"What have you given him?" 

"We've only been home for 20 minutes but I gave him Tylenol and some cough syrup about 20 minutes ago." Dean said walking to the kitchen. "He really doesn't look good. He's crying and asking for you. That's why I called." Dean said quietly. 

"Shit. He's crying?" John asked, surprised. 

"And asking for you. I think he needs to go to the doctor or something." Dean said. 

"Let me tell Jack that I'm leaving. I'll be home in 20 minutes, okay?" John said. 

"Alright." Dean said. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding once John hung up. He went back to the couch and curled up with Sam again. 

"Dad will be home in 20 minutes, okay?" Dean said gently. 

Sam nodded and sniffled. Dean picked up his teacup and held it to Sam's lips so he could sip at it. Sam sighed when Dean took the cup away and let his head fall back onto the pillow. He just wanted to sleep. Dean started rubbing his head, and his eyes grew heavier and heavier until he drifted off. 

 

Dean looked up when the front door clicked open. John walked in quietly and shut the door behind him, leaving his boots and jacket on the floor near the coatrack. 

"How is he?" John asked, sitting on the coffee table. He felt Sam's forehead and whistled under his breath. "Not good, huh?" 

"I gave him Tylenol and he's stopped shivering but he looks miserable. I wasn't sure what to do." Dean said.

"You did the right thing." John said, standing up. "I'll call the doctor and see if I can bring him in today." Dean watched John walk into the kitchen with the phone. Sam wiggled and opened his eyes. 

"De, is Daddy home?" he whispered. 

"Yeah, he just got here. He's calling the doctor right now. He'll be back." Dean told him. Sam sighed, which caused him to cough. Dean winced in sympathy and sat Sam up to pound on his back. "You okay? Here, take a drink." 

Sam wiped the tears off his cheeks and sipped at the tea which was almost cold. Dean laid him back down when the coughing had stopped and Sam snuggled into Dean's body heat. 

"I don't want to go to the doctor." Sam whispered. 

"I know, but you'll feel better when you get the right medicine." Dean said, rubbing Sam's back. Sam tucked his head under Dean's chin and closed his eyes. 

"I don't need a doctor to make me feel better. Daddy's home now. He'll make it better." Sam mumbled. Dean kept rubbing Sam's back until his breathing evened out and he was making little snoring sounds. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe John just being home made Sam feel better.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean watched from his position on the couch as John carried the phone into the kitchen to call the doctor. Sam had started snoring, a sign that he was getting congested. A few minutes later John came back into the living room. 

"The doctor has an opening at 1. We should get him ready to go." John said quietly, placing the phone back on its base. Dean nodded and gently started moving out from underneath Sam. "Sammy, come on. Get up." John coaxed, grabbing Sam's shoulders. Sam's eyes cracked open. "You have an appointment soon. Go get dressed, okay?" John said, feeling Sam's forehead again. 

Dean stood up and followed Sam to the bedroom. Sam plopped down on his bed and watched as Dean grabbed a hoodie for him to slip on. "You can stay in your pj's if you want to." Dean said. Sam nodded and took the hoodie from Dean. He slipped it on and pulled the sleeves over his hands. While Dean was turned back towards the closet, Sam curled up on his side, too tired to stay sitting up. He was cold and his throat hurt and his nose was stuffy. 

"Sammy, don't fall asleep." Dean said, turning back towards his brother. Sam looked miserable. "Come on, let's go get in the car."

Sam stood and grabbed Dean's hand as they walked to the living room. Sam stuffed his feet in his boots and waited for Dean to do the same. After his coat had been slipped on over the hoodie, Sam followed Dean to the Impala that John had running to keep it warm. Sam curled up in the backseat and fell asleep on the drive across town.

xxxxx

"It looks like Sam has a mild case of strep throat. I'll prescribe him some penicillin and he should be as good as new in a few days. He just needs to get plenty of rest and lots of liquids." Dr. Amati said, scribbling a note on the prescription pad. 

"Thank you for getting him in on such quick notice." John said standing up. Dean helped Sam put his arms through his coat sleeves. 

"No problem. Call me if he gets worse. His tonsils look like they could cause him trouble one of these days." Dr. Amati said. She opened the door and led the Winchester's to the receptionist area. John stood at the counter and Dean led Sam back to the Impala. 

"There. You'll be feeling better in no time." Dean said, settling Sam in the back seat. He wrapped a blanket around the smaller boy's shoulders and smiled at him. 

"What did she mean when she said my tonsils might cause me trouble?" Sam asked. 

Dean climbed into the front seat and started the car. "Probably that we just need to keep an eye out for strep throat. Maybe you're gonna catch it a lot." Dean said. He wasn't sure exactly the doctor had meant by that statement, but he hoped that Sam wouldn't need his tonsils out. From what he'd heard it wasn't a fun procedure. 

"All good sport?" John asked, climbing into the drivers seat. Sam nodded and rested his head against the back of the seat. They drove home in silence, the radio lowered to a murmur. John pulled into the driveway and kept the car running. "You two go inside, I'll run to the pharmacy." John said. Dean nodded and helped Sam out of the car. It was starting to snow, little white flakes landing in Sam's hair. He followed Sam into the house and got Sam set up on the couch again. 

"You wanna watch some tv? The after school cartoons should be on just about now." Dean suggested. Sam nodded and curled up under the sleeping bag. 

"Will you lie with me again?" Sam asked. 

"Course I will. Let me go throw on some sweats first." Dean answered. He jogged to their room and shucked his jeans off to change into a pair of sweatpants. He went back to the couch and climbed in behind Sam's small body. Sam had already flicked the tv on and was watching Sesame Street. Dean let Sam curl up into his chest and wrap his scrawny arms around Dean's body. 

xxxxx

"How is he?" John asked quietly, closing the door behind him. 

"Sleeping. But he's still pretty warm." Dean answered. John felt Sam's forehead and nodded. He put the little white bag from the pharmacy on the coffee table and went into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a mug of tea. 

"Sammy, take some medicine." John said gently. Sam opened his eyes and took the pills from John. He swallowed them with the tea. "Are you hungry? I bought some soup." John said. Sam nodded. "Atta boy." John said, patting Sam's cheek. Dean smiled and wrapped his arms around Sam. 

"Thanks for picking me up from school De." Sam whispered. 

"You're welcome Sammy. I'll pick you up anytime, any place. Just call me and I'll be there." Dean said. And it was the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I add another chapter to this? It's late and I need to go to sleep, so that's why I ended it where I did but I'll add another chapter if you guys think I should.


End file.
